


Clair de Lune

by MagpieMinx (CardinalFox)



Category: Kong: Skull Island (2017)
Genre: Backstory? I don't know her, F/M, For full effect listen to Debussy's Clair de Lune while you read, How many ways can I say that this is just smut or lemons or whatever we're calling it now, Lowkey soft dom James Conrad, Not Quite Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, PWP, Penetrative Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, There is not much talking okay y'all are busy, Undernegotiated kink sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CardinalFox/pseuds/MagpieMinx
Summary: Tout en chantant sur le mode mineurL'amour vainqueur et la vie opportuneIls n'ont pas l'air de croire à leur bonheurEt leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune-- Paul Verlaine, 1869, Clair de Lune (poem)While singing in a minor keyOf victorious love and good lifeThey don't seem to believe in their own happinessAnd their song mingles with the moonlight





	Clair de Lune

You blink slowly, the bright white glow of moonlight on snow coming through the window and illuminating your bedroom.  There’s a soft touch on your cheek, sliding down your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, calloused fingertips skimming across the fabric of your shirt.  You nuzzle your cheek a little deeper into your pillow and then glance up through your lashes at James, propped up on one elbow. As per usual, he misses nothing, tilts his head to look down at you.  His expression is rarely what you would call soft, he ranges mostly from alarmed to unforgiving to stern, but right now there’s a gentleness to his eyes.

“I’m sorry, darling, did I wake you?” he asks softly, the low volume rendering his voice into an unintentionally seductive purr.

You shake your head, then arch your neck so you can look at him a little more directly as you say, “No.  At least, I don’t think so.”

He lets his elbow slide across the sheets, inclining his head as he comes down until his lips meet yours, soft, warm pressure against your mouth.  You sigh and he licks into your mouth, carefully, with restraint, hunger without disturbance. His hand passes over your hip and settles in the small of your back, pulling you closer and you respond by lifting your knee and draping it over his thigh.  His hand travels down over your ass, down your thigh, settles in the back of your knee and pulls it higher, dragging your hips closer to his. This close, his cock is pressed against the inner thigh of your other leg, not quite fully hard, but getting there.

When he pulls away, your breath is coming in soft, short pants and you bite your lip as he rolls the both of you so that you’re almost on your back before his hand runs back up over your hip, sliding under your shirt.  His palm is warm on your ribs, then it wraps around your breast and squeezes, gentle, but firm. The squeeze evolves into a massage interspersed with some light rolling of your nipple. He pauses to adjust his position, shifting you fully onto your back and straddling your thigh, pushing himself up onto his knees before lifting and pulling your shirt over your head.  You let him, lifting your arms to make it easier, then arrange your hair as he drops it to the floor on the side. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as his hands find your breasts again, resuming what he was doing before, this time with both hands.  He doesn’t require a reply, rarely does, he doesn’t say these things to hear your response. He says them to express what he’s thinking, so that you know, and in a way it frees you to accept his compliments in a way that you otherwise might not be able to.  With no pressure to respond, you can wonder at it and smile because you know it’s honest. After everything he’s seen, he doesn’t use the word “beautiful” frivolously. 

He bends down to kiss you again, slow, languid, and you squirm and squeeze his knee between your thighs.  It’s not quite close enough for you to rub your panty-covered pussy against, but you lift your hips anyway, knowing that he’ll notice.  He laughs lightly, breaking away from your mouth for a heartbeat before coming back again, tongue sliding against yours, curling around it.  This time when he pulls away, he nips your lip playfully, smiling roguishly in the not-dark. He holds your gaze for a moment, his eyes fond, almost seeming to shine in the moonlit glow of the snow.

When he looks away, it’s to close his eyes as he curls his tongue around your nipple before closing his lips around it and sucking.  His tongue is stroking when your hands land on his head, cradle it against you. Your breathing is shaky, uncertain, ragged as he pulls more of your breast into his mouth, the tip of his tongue running in firm circles around your nipple.  You bite your lip to try and stop yourself from whining, but the sound escapes your throat anyway and James hums with pleasure in response. He closes his teeth around your nipple and tugs gently, making you gasp, and then he switches to your other breast.

He swirls his tongue around your other nipple, drawing long, firm, repeated spirals around it, pausing between to suck on it too.  You shiver, your panties feeling hotter and wetter by the second, and you wrap your free leg around him, back and neck arching as you pull his head closer.  He laughs quietly against your flesh, one hand wrapping around your raised thigh, the other lifting one of your hands away from the back of his head, saying, “Did you want something, darling?”

You huff in frustration, even knowing that he likes to tease you right in the middle, and respond, “I just want you in me, James.”  

“Patience, darling,” he murmurs, still laughing against your skin, his eyes sparkling, “Have I ever left you unsatisfied?”

“No,” you say, uncertain because it’s true, but your impatience is rearing its head and you want him to at least  _ touch _ your sensitized cunt.  His fingers glide up the outside of your thigh, hook in the waistband of your panties, tug lightly on them.

“Shall I take these off?” he asks, his voice a low, intentional this time, purr and you nod breathlessly, unwrapping your thigh from around him, drawing your other leg up from under him.  He shifts backwards just enough for you to bring your knees to your chest, and then you’re taking your panties off together. You pull them up your thighs and he pulls them down over your calves and feet, tosses them aside and settles between your legs as you part them for him.  It’s a seamless dance that you’re both familiar with, but he’s lower than you expected him to be and suddenly you’re holding your breath. 

He’s still looking up at you when he licks you, and he’s lost his playfulness so that all that remains is the hunger, his eyes taking on a wolfish gleam.  You inhale in a sharp little gasp, and then he closes his eyes and settles in, his hands on the backs of your thighs now, fingers curving over your inner thighs, pushing them back and pulling them apart at the same time.  You whimper as he licks you over and over, his tongue broad and flat, pressing against you, hot and wet. You can’t help squirming, and you hear his aggressive sigh as he pushes his tongue between your folds to run directly over your entrance.

You grip the sheets and hope that you don’t end up tearing through them because it wouldn’t be the first time, but you need something to anchor yourself.  James is alternating between more of those broad flat licks with more pointed, detailed work with his tongue. Sometimes he zig-zags his way up, sometimes it’s just a slow, wet drag of his tongue, sometimes he circles your clit without actually touching it, sometimes he digs his tongue into your folds and presses against you without actually entering you.  It’s maddening and your pussy is pulsing, clenching randomly, and if it weren’t for the reminder of his hands on your thighs, you would have closed them around his head long ago. It’s taking most of your self-control to keep them apart, but then sometimes you find yourself straining to push them further apart, and you’re not sure what you’re doing anymore.

Every other exhale escapes your lips as a high pitched little moan though you’re biting your lip again, trying to muffle or contain them.  Your legs are shaking and James is still working you over with his tongue, taking you closer and closer to the edge, but never trying to push you over it.  There are times when you forget how patient he can be because on a daily basis he’s decisive, making decisions quickly and following them through to the end.  There’s no vacillation with him, which is not to say that he’s not spontaneous, but once he makes a decision, the decision is made. He doesn’t hesitate or backtrack, and it makes you forget that he can wait you out.  Worse, he can wait your orgasm out, ease you closer and closer to it until you have no choice but to fall.

He’s not following a set pattern, so you can’t quite lose yourself in it, can’t get bored.  He throws something new into the mix now, tonguing gently at the sides of your clit, just brushing up against it.  You jerk, trying to lift your hips, clenching your teeth and whining. You feel the sheet start to stretch and give under your fingertips, so you let it go and press your hands flat against the mattress.  Suddenly you can’t stop the way your hips rock up against his mouth, and he purrs as he licks you again, and you can’t stop the full-throated moan slipping out of your mouth. James circles your entrance with the tip of his tongue, then seals his lips around your cunt and sucks.  You buck in response, gasping for breath as he lets go and then presses a kiss to your clit. This has the effect of sucking your sensitive clit between them and he squeezes it gently, causing your body to jerk again.

“Close?” he murmurs against you before pushing his tongue into your swollen folds, delivering points of pressure and pleasure that advance upwards towards your clit and then descend again on the other side.  It takes you a while to understand what he’s said, and it takes longer to formulate a response.

“Ye-es,” you reply, your voice breaking in the middle of the word as he catches your clit between his lips again, tugging slightly and then letting go.  He starts drawing circles around your clit again, first counterclockwise, then clockwise, then counterclockwise again. He pauses occasionally to just press against the side of your clit, lingering there on the right, then later on the left, sometimes against the bottom, sometimes down from the top.  His expression as he works you over is contemplative, thoughtful, measured, and then his eyes meet yours and they get that ravenous gleam again and you inhale sharply. You have equal and opposite impulses to spread your legs for him to devour you and to close your legs so that he can’t ravage you.

He stares directly at you when he sets his mouth over your clit and strokes your clit with his tongue for the first time, and you can’t hold his gaze.  Your head falls back as his tongue swipes over your clit at a slightly different angle, then again and again and again and you’re gaping for breath and trying to ride his tongue.  You try to figure out what he might be tracing over your clit, but the sensation of it is so distracting that you can’t track it. He repeats the pattern again and again, one of his hands leaving your thigh and two fingers resting at the entrance of your pussy.  They don’t push inside, though you wish they would, but they’re pressed against you hard enough that they could. You can feel yourself clenching down, trying to grasp them and failing because they’re not actually in you and then-

Suddenly you’re there, teetering on the edge, and James goes on tracing his pattern over your clit with his tongue and your cunt is spasming and you stop breathing as you fall into a wave of heat.  Pleasure washes through you like rushing water, flashing up through your feet, your legs, into your hips and your back, pooling at the small of your back as it arches and then you squeeze your eyes shut.  A small, animal sound ekes out between heavy gasps and at some point you must have reached for James because your hands are on his shoulders, your fingers digging in on one side, between your shaking legs.  He’s still licking the same pattern over your clit, just slower now, drawing out your orgasm as long as he can. You squirm when it becomes too much, his fingers still held right against you, just short of penetration, and you don’t know if you want them in you or away from you.

“Jaaaaames,” you hear yourself say, the first vowel a shaky, prolonged moan you didn’t mean to voice.  He suckles on your clit one last time, making you jump and thrash, and then laughs as he pulls away, giving your clit a final lick.  You go limp with relief as he moves over you, but then his fingers drag up from your entrance to your clit and you yelp and writhe, trying to squirm away from the touch on your too-sensitive clit.  You try to close your thighs over his hands, but he’s dropped his hips low enough that your calves clamp down on his body and his fingers rub soft circles over your clit while you desperately try to pull him down onto you.  If he were laying on you, the angle would be too awkward for him to continue, but you’ve forgotten how much stronger he is. The only thing that happens is that the mattress gives under the added pressure and he remains basically stationary above you.  

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ , James,  _ please- _ ” You can’t finish because those soft circles over your clit cause you to shudder, lurching closer to another orgasm that you’re not ready to have.  It feels like it’ll break you, leave you in pieces underneath him and then he’ll have to put you together again. It’s not that he can’t or that you don’t want him too, but the thought of falling apart in front of him still makes you feel vulnerable.

“It’s alright, darling,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle your cheek, pausing to carefully lower himself down to his elbow beside you.  It gives you a much needed break from his fingers, and once he’s stable they’re back at your clit, circling and making you buck up against the touch.  You can’t tell if you want more or if you want him to stop, but his other hand is sliding under your head, cupping the back of your skull, saying, “I’ve got you.”  

Something about that statement hits something in your gut, and you orgasm again with a low moan that someone else might mistake for pain.  His fingers never stop and your legs are shaking again as they fall open, no longer clasping his sides between them. His breath is hot on your cheek as he kisses down to your jaw, then your throat, hot, open-mouthed kisses that leave your skin wet and cold when he pulls away.  You shudder again, your head pressing back into his palm, and then it’s sliding down to the back of your neck.

His fingers slow, and then finally they lift off your clit and you’re still panting, breathless, melting into the mattress.  You blink up at him, feeling like you might fall asleep, or maybe as if you’ve just woken up. He’s smiling down at you, something between smugness and affection, and then you feel his knuckles brush up against you, the head of his cock lodging right against the entrance of your cunt.  He presses gently against you as he brings his hand up so he can rest on both his elbows, your hands drop from his shoulders, sliding down his biceps. Your grip is shaky, but you stare up at him, waiting, holding your breath. Even now, you want him inside you so badly that you’d-

He sinks into you, slow and careful, and your mouth falls open with the pleasure of being stretched and filled.  It’s both gentler and fiercer a pleasure than having him lick or touch your clit, which is a sharper kind of pleasure.  One is sparks, the other is a slow burning fire, and you wrap your legs around his waist and try to pull him into you faster.  You hear the huff of his chuckle as he clicks his tongue, says “No need to be in such a rush, darling.” He punctuates this sentence with a kiss, the taste of you still on his lips and tongue.

“Someday, I’ll edge you,” you threaten him breathlessly when he pulls away, and he grins at you.

“Is that what I’ve been doing, darling?” he inquires with another laugh, “Edging you?  And you’re going to do the same to me someday?”

“Yes,” you promise, then groan when he snaps his hips and sinks the rest of his cock into you.  He’s not small in any way, and now your legs are shaking again just from having him inside you. The way he stretches you is exquisite, long enough that he’s pressed up against your cervix, thick enough that you can’t control the way your cunt spasms around him.  He pushes himself deeper, puts pressure against your cervix that makes all the air rush out of your lungs, holds himself there while you squirm under him.

“Someday,” he faux-muses, “I shall have to watch out for someday, then, won’t I?”  He tilts his head as he looks down at you, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you.  If you were being honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either, especially not now as he sinks just a little deeper into you.  The force of the orgasm that follows knocks you sideways and all you can do is cling to him and wait for it to end. For a moment, you feel like you’re not even human, you’re just nerves in places that have only rarely been touched and they’re all fireworks going off.  

James doesn’t wait for it to end, just takes advantage of your temporary incapacitation to rock his hips, withdrawing and thrusting back into you.  He grunts as he increases his pace, his cock sawing in and out of your swollen, sopping pussy. You writhe under him, clawing at his shoulders, trying to pull him down to you as you keen.  He kisses you, messy and less controlled this time, his mouth hard against yours. He doesn’t pull away for breath this time, stays there against your lips, his harsh exhales a breathy snarl.  His back and sides flex under your calves as he splits you open around his cock over and over again, as there’s slick dripping from your pussy down to your ass. It’s thick and wet where your bodies are connected, clinging to his cock and your cunt, smoothing the way for him as he fucks you into the mattress.

This orgasm is different from the others he’s given you tonight, this one is heat and warmth, like there’s a star in your belly that’s burning brighter and warmer the longer he fucks you.  It builds and builds until the warmth takes over and you go limp beneath him. You know his lips are on yours, but you can’t quite feel them, just like you know that your hands have slipped from his shoulders and fallen beside your head.  You can’t feel anything but him moving inside you as the heat subsumes you. You might have moaned, but you can’t really hear yourself or him over the slick, wet noise of him thrusting into your dripping cunt.

You are able to identify when his thrusts lose their immaculate rhythm, and you put effort into tightening your cunt around him, clamping down on his cock.  He groans against your lips and you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, kiss him, and he shudders. He buries his cock in you, his hips jerking reflexively as he finishes, twitching inside you from tip to base.  You hold him through it, legs wrapped tight around his waist, ankles crossed at his lower back, kissing his open, panting mouth. He moans your name, slurring it in the depths of his own pleasure, his eyes closed as he rides out the remainder of his orgasm.

Eventually, he lowers himself onto you and you uncross your ankles and let your legs fall from his back.  You sprawl on the mattress, and he sprawls on top of you, heavy, but pleasantly warm. There’s a humming under your skin as he drops his face into the crook of your neck, kisses you there, and you laugh.  It takes a lot of effort, but you reach up and run one hand through his hair. He sighs contentedly as your fingers travel down the back of his head to the back of his neck, and from there onto his back. He lifts his head to kiss you briefly, first your lips, then the tip of your nose, and then he pushes himself up enough to pull out.  You both moan at the loss, but then he rolls to the side, gathers you close. You nestle into him, settling there with a contented sigh as he strokes your back from shoulder blades to ass.

“I hope that makes up for waking you up,” he says quietly, and you can’t help a brief little laugh.

“I still don’t think you were the reason I woke up,” you tell him, pushing your forehead into the curve of his shoulder.

“Bloody lot of wasted effort then,” he says and you can hear the smile in his tone.

“It is,” you tell him cheerfully, “But not if you consider it a sleep aid.”

“Oh, so that’s what I was doing,” he says, starting to chuckle, “Then I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m usually right,” you say, and then yawn, “You know that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to watch Kong: Skull Island but the internet wouldn't cooperate so I ended up writing this instead. James Conrad is dreamy and I need pictures of him in his SAS uniform, thx. I really don't know what there is else to say about this other than I might need to touch Tom Hiddleston's biceps???
> 
> Kudos and comments are always super appreciated!


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